Gay, Satanist, and PROUD

Just 5 years ago, I got so stressed out as my parents, after 31 years of marriage, made the decision to (finally) part ways. This was not easy in the eyes of a 31-year-old only child, but I let it be as I’d be too old to be taking sides. I maintained a neutral stand on the matter but promised my Mom that I’d support whatever decision she would make TO THE LAST LETTER.

Moving back, Friday before this incident happened, I had my usual Skype chat with my niece, who happens to be my only 101% confidant. I don’t know what grimness wrapped us both that day and I cannot anymore remember why, of all topics, we discussed my father’s physical abuse on me when I was a kid.

I was teary-eyed while chatting, as I related to my niece my most unforgettable beat-up day:

It was a rainy afternoon. Snacks were ready — hotdogs, bread, and butter. That was summer after finishing 3rd grade (I was 9). That afternoon, no water was running from the faucet so we were skimping on what was left for handwash purposes. That too, ran out. So I had to go out and fetch water from the rain so we would have something to clean up with after snack time. I went out through the dirty back door, which had a screen door with a spring, which would close by itself.

After filling half the pail with water from the rain, I requested my Mom to open the door for me as I did not anymore want my hands to be soiled (the door was dirty and food was waiting). My Mom stood up to willingly open the door.

To my surprise, Dad stopped her. He told her I should open the door. Mom insisted on walking to the door but Dad grabbed her. Then he blabbered that the door was not dirty enough and that I should not be TOO sanitary and I should “act like a MAN”.

For almost 10 minutes, I stood by the door and begged them to open it, but in vain. Dad said I won’t eat if I don’t open the door and get inside. In the end, I GOT PISSED (who wouldn’t?). I opened the door, angrily returned the pail where it was and told them my hands had been soiled, there was very little water, and I had lost my appetite.

Before I could even blink, Dad stood up and punched me on the head twice. Something that darkened out my senses. I started to cry and Mom started to nag him. As I was crying, he went to the room, grabbed his belt and started beating me up all he could. I kept on wailing, asking him why and insisting I should not be beaten up just for that. The beat-up lasted for 2 hours. The finale — Dad lifted me, threw me to the bed. Mom tried to defend me but she was taken aback when Dad threatened to punch her. When I landed on the bed, Dad slapped my face, full force, left and right, no end, until I could hardly breathe. He stopped when finally, HE HIT MY EYE.

Mom was CRYING as she was helpless. She prepared hot water and face towel for the compress. My right eye was blue, and I was bleeding. Even if I was profusely bleeding, DAD DID NOT LET ME EAT SUPPER THAT NIGHT.

All for being a kid who was bound to be GAY. All for reasoning out. All for a questioning mind. All for STANDING UP AND FIGHTING FOR WHAT I KNEW WAS RIGHT.

Five years ago, Mom finally had COURAGE to leave my Dad, and she is happily with me to this day.

Five years ago, Dad FINALLY GOT HIS DOSE.

Today, I’m 36. I’ve come out. I’ve succeeded and become independent. I’ve established myself –  my home, my dwelling, my career, my life.

Today, though still alive, Dad is reduced to a bad memory.

Today, all remains to be a bitter trace of the past.

Today, I’m finally a BUTTERFLY – Colorful and FREE.

Today, I’m a SATANIST – enlightened, awakened, and STRONG. Nobody can HURT ME anymore unlike before.

Today, I’m GAY, and I’M PROUD OF IT! 🙂


Stupid grade school biblical tale

When I was little, I was always into reading, the NERD that I was. Whenever my parents would bring me to a mall or department store, should they lose sight of me, they would never get upset; there were only two places where I could be found – the bookstore or the record bar.

During my grade school days at a government elementary school, I was so fond of reading those English storybooks that were supplemental to our English textbooks. I’d seclude myself in one corner and read during recess time rather than play useless games outside that would only lead me to a fight with the bullies.

Today, maybe 26 years after, I suddenly remember one story that I read, the utter STUPIDITY of which makes me furious. It was either from the book “BUILDING ENGLISH SKILLS” or “MORE STORIES ON PARADE” – I can’t figure out exactly. It makes me wonder how the Department of Education has been educating our grade school kids and what kind of thinking they have been trying to inculcate in their poor little minds.

The story was about a family who ran out of money and had nothing to eat one day. The mother was desperate in finding ways. However, no store would extend her credit as she had unpaid dues with everybody. And so, SHE PRAYED to god. After praying, she approached, for the second time, the owner of the biggest store on their street and asked if she could charge some goods. The store owner, maybe tired of her, said yes, but on one condition: NOT BEYOND THE FIRST TICK OF THE WEIGHING SCALE. The mother got some rice, canned goods, sugar, vegetables, cooking oil, and bread and put them on the scale. To her surprise, the scale didn’t move a bit! [Prayers answered???] The store owner was equally surprised and speechless [Oh Yeah???] and, left with no choice, stuttered, “Is that all?” Moral of the story: PRAYERS CAN MOVE MOUNTAINS.

HOLY SHIT! What was the author thinking when he wrote this story?? If I were the store owner, why should I believe that with all that stuff on the scale, it wouldn’t move? If I were the mother, on the other hand, how dumb of me to seize the “opportunity” to put everything I need on that scale and HOPE AGAINST HOPE it wouldn’t move and/or rejoice deep inside at the fact that it didn’t move at all! HOW STUPID OF ALL OF THEM NOT TO REALIZE THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE SCALE!

The most stupid thing of all is the Department of Education approving the publication of such story in some grade school English book. Did it ever cross their minds that anything taught to a child in his formative years is very difficult to unlearn? Did they ever consider that the heaviest part of educating our children is GIVING THEM A FIRM GRASP OF REALITY and not creating UNREALISTIC scenarios on the manifestation of [the useless] god’s mercy? Did they ever realize that what they published could affect a child’s ability to distinguish fact from fancy?

It was good I was the only one who got too interested in those books back in grade school as they were just piled up and gathering dust in one corner. Thank goodness only a few kids then had enough facility to understand English literature. Thank heavens everybody else wanted to play outside. Otherwise, a greater number of kids would have been exposed to such misleading, senseless tale. There could be more; who knows?